


All Yours

by Spuri



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Demisexuality, Depression, Fluff and Angst, Grey-A, I promise this is happier than it sounds, M/M, Masturbation, Sexuality Crisis, Social Anxiety, because this shit is hard, set after episode 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-30 20:51:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8548693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spuri/pseuds/Spuri
Summary: A completely innocent episode leaves Yuuri confused, overwhelmed, and questioning his sexuality in ways he'd never expected to need to.Fortunately, he doesn't have to deal with it alone.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Highly self-indulgent, because a lot of Yuuri's feelings and stuff are SO DAMN RELATABLE IT HURTS.
> 
> AKA: you will pry my grace/demi!Yuuri headcanon from my cold, dead hands.
> 
> You will not see Yuuri identify as either grace or demi in this fic, or see anyone else use those words, either. Because knowing what I know about Japanese society, I HIGHLY doubt Yuuri would know where to even BEGIN to get access to the necessary resources to come to that conclusion about his own sexuality, and Victor is just as unlikely to be familiar with it.
> 
> This was both very painful and very cathartic to write, so. Hope you guys enjoy.

Sometimes, Yuuri couldn’t quite stop himself from staring at Victor, because Victor didn’t seem quite real. Not only because it wasn’t every day the idol you’d worshipped for more than half your life showed up naked in your home and proclaimed that he’d stay there and  _ coach _ you, but because Victor was kind of otherworldly gorgeous.

 

From the perfect skater physique (that Yuuri had seen  _ entirely too much of _ , thank you very much), to his elegant movements, to his smooth, pleasant voice, to the face that was more beautiful than handsome, and all the way to the hair that was probably as soft to the touch as it looked, but certainly was more  _ real _ than it looked, and so different from Japanese hair. Yes, despite Victor’s reaction, Yuuri couldn’t really regret poking it. Though he wished he hadn’t been wearing gloves, so he could’ve confirmed the silky softness as well.

 

But it all added up to a sort of perfection that didn’t seem quite real. And sure, there were various small physical imperfections - little scars, the odd freckle - and quite a few personality defects - though for some ridiculous and kind of frustrating reason, Yuuri kept finding them endearing instead of annoying - and all of it was enough to show that Victor really was  _ human _ and not something… other, if such a thing even existed. Still, Sometimes Yuuri felt like he had to make  _ sure. _

 

So he kept catching himself staring, or even  _ touching _ Victor, as if to make sure he was actually real. Fortunately, Victor didn’t seem to have cottoned on to the staring, and was himself even more likely to reach out and touch than Yuuri was. Which was a good thing, really, because Yuuri wasn’t certain he’d survive the embarrassment of being caught out. Like he was a child who couldn’t believe anything that wasn’t right in front of him, in touching distance.

 

He just couldn’t understand why it seemed so impossible to get over it, though. Sure no-one had ever fascinated him quite like Victor did, but then again, no-one  _ skated _ like Victor did, either. And skating was Yuuri’s home. The stress of competing often made him forget, but when it was just him and the ice and the music, there was no other feeling like it in the world. Maybe he wasn’t good for all that much else, but he could  _ skate _ , and the ice wouldn’t care if he didn’t know how to communicate, or how to let people in. There was no loneliness on the ice, because you were  _ always _ alone on the ice. You could simply glide on through, and nothing else mattered except the blades cutting trails behind you, a clear-cut proof of your existence.

 

And Victor, Victor  _ owned _ the ice, ruled it in a way no-one else could, and how was Yuuri supposed to look away from that kind of power? How was he supposed to not want just a little bit of that for himself?

 

Of course, all the excuses and logical explanations in the world didn’t make the staring any less mortifying. Like now, when he _should_ be paying attention to his dinner, but couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight of Victor drinking with Minako-sensei. Perhaps he should feel it was unfair that Victor was drinking when he’d banned alcohol from Yuuri’s diet outside of special, pre-approved occasions, but he’d never been a big fan of alcohol in the first place. Besides, only one of them was currently a professionally competing top athlete, and neither Yuuri’s liver nor his metabolism would thank him for breaking that particular ban.

 

So he was  _ trying _ to focus on his own meal, but every now and then, Victor would pick a pod of  _ edamame _ from the giant bowl he and Minako-sensei were sharing, suck out the beans, and lick the salt off of his fingers.

 

And of course Victor would slide his fingers in and out of his mouth as elegantly as he did everything else, because he probably didn’t know how to move any other way, but the sight was also incredibly erotic.

 

Yuuri had never really thought of eating  _ edamame _ as erotic before, but when Victor did it, it really was. Yuuri desperately wanted to know how.  _ How _ did you get so much sensuality and, well,  _ eros _ , that it basically poured out of every action, every casual gesture?

 

Because Victor wasn’t doing it on purpose, so how? Was it something you could learn, or was it an innate quality, something only a select few were born with?

 

Yuuri desperately hoped it was something he could learn. If he could learn it, then maybe he could be desireable. Or, well, maybe that was hoping for too much. Even if he copied Victor’s gestures, he wouldn’t have any of Victor’s  _ other _ qualities; his looks, his mental strength, or his bright personality.

 

Yuuri was just Yuuri; not much to look at, gained weight too easily, and so weak, especially under pressure. He couldn’t even skate  _ Eros _ without pretending to be someone else, so perhaps it was greedy, but he couldn’t help the feeling that if even just a single person found him desireable; found him worth looking at, found him worth  _ wanting _ , he might dare to look at someone that way as well. As it was, he couldn’t quite make himself want anyone. Even if he were to meet the most fascinating people in the world, he doubted he’d be able to bring himself to even  _ want _ to reach out. He couldn’t really explain it, but he almost felt like he didn’t have the right. Maybe if he was better, maybe if he was… Well, there were all sorts of maybe’s, and deep down, he doubted he’d be able to fulfill even a single one of them.

 

Victor looked up and caught Yuuri staring, flashing him a brilliant smile that made Yuuri’s heart skip a beat and his face heat up. Then Victor grabbed another pod of  _ edamame _ , and Yuuri was absolutely transfixed as he sucked his fingers clean. He couldn’t help but wonder what those lips would feel like on his skin, and-...

 

Wait.  _ What _ ?

 

Yuuri froze in shock. What on earth had prompted  _ that _ thought? And why would he want Victor to, what, kiss him? Suck hi-...

 

Yuuri’s brain went in another highly inappropriate direction before he could slam the lid shut on that, and already he could feel the heat pooling in the pit of his stomach. Swallowing thickly, he hurriedly excused himself from dinner, cleared the table, and halfway waddled, halfway ran for the privacy and safety of his room, ignoring the worried calls that he hadn’t even finished eating. And he  _ knew _ it was unlike him, and that questions were inevitable, but he simply wasn’t able to deal with any of that right now.

 

He slammed the bedroom door shut after himself, and leaned against it for the moment it took to let out a long, deep sigh, before flopping face-down on the bed. The image of Victor sucking on and licking his own fingers wouldn’t leave his brain, and it kept morphing, and adding images of Victor in the bath; his abs, his nipples, his thighs, his  _ ass _ , and his, well…

 

Yuuri whined into his pillow. What was going  _ on _ ? He almost felt like he was going through puberty again, except he couldn’t remember his brain being this, well,  _ filthy _ in puberty. Surely, he’d remember if it had been, right? It wasn’t  _ that _ long ago.

 

His dick was throbbing insistently, more so than he could ignore, and despite his body burning with shame, he curled up and shoved his hand down his underwear, almost whimpering as he gripped himself.

 

This was so  _ wrong _ ; Victor was his coach and his idol, and Yuuri shouldn’t be doing this, but once he’d started touching, he just couldn’t  _ stop _ .

 

He could feel the memory, the phantom touch of Victor’s thumb on his lips, of Victor’s forehead against his, the heat of Victor’s naked body behind him, and the smooth slide of his hands as he helped Yuuri stretch in the bath, and it hardly took anything at all to give those gestures a hint of sensuality. Even if his brain knew better, his dick could pretend those touches had meaning, or at least speculate on what it would feel like if they  _ did _ .

 

The answer was apparently “ _ incredible _ ”. He wasn’t sure he’d ever gotten so worked up so fast in his life, his hand already so sticky he distantly knew his underwear was a bust as well, but that hardly mattered enough for him to bother attempting to kick anything off. All that mattered was touch, and oh how he  _ craved _ Victor’s, but his own would do for now, if he just didn’t stop, if he just moved faster, because he was so  _ close _ -...

 

And then he remembered Victor asking whether Yuuri wanted him as a  _ lover _ , and that was just the last push over the edge. He came with a loud whimper that he did his best to muffle by biting his pillow.

 

Breathing heavily, he slumped to the side, then rolled over on his back, covering his face with his hands. Well, hand and forearm, with the hand sticky with come carefully curled away so he wouldn’t smear it everywhere.

 

He could feel the shame burning in his entire body; that he’d done that at all, that he’d had to run from the dining hall, that he’d thought about Victor like that,  _ used _ Victor lie that. Did this-...

 

Did this mean he was gay? Having done figure skating for almost as long as he could remember, he’d heard all the jokes, all the comments and assumptions more times than he could count, but he’d never paid any attention to it. The idea that his love for skating should have anything to do with what kind of person he’d like to be with had always seemed ridiculous to him, and besides, he’d never looked at guys like that anyway.

 

He’d lived practically surrounded by skaters in Detroit, many of whom were, objectively speaking, pretty attractive. It was a demanding sport after all, and sharing locker rooms meant that you inevitably saw a lot of, uh, sculpted physiques. But none of that had ever inspired any thoughts like  _ this _ , and besides, he’d always loved  _ Yuuko _ , so why would he even consider questioning his sexuality?

 

He may not have  _ wanted _ her, not really, because that would require opening up in ways he’d never felt comfortable with, but he’d still loved her. Hadn’t he? Sure, he’d never imagined anything beyond holding hands, or maybe a chaste kiss, but that was because it was  _ Yuuko _ . Thinking of her naked, or wanting, or touching, or  _ carnal _ seemed deeply and inherently  _ wrong _ somehow. Like a betrayal of her trust, or of their friendship, and just the thought of it made him shudder unpleasantly.

 

So, what did that mean?

 

His mind kept swirling in confusion, and he just wanted it all to go  _ away _ . He didn’t want to deal with his entire worldview potentially shifting, and trying to find out where everything fit now. He just wanted to  _ skate _ , and to  _ win _ \- that was all he’d ever wanted -  and now, to make Victor proud. Oh,  _ please _ , have him be proud and not regret coming to Hasetsu, not regret  _ staying _ in Hasetsu instead of going back to Russia with Yurio.

 

Yuuri didn’t want to start doubting the core of his own personality, as if he’d never known who he was until know. He didn’t have the time  _ or  _  the energy to deal with that. So if he could just stop  _ thinking _ about it, he could ignore this. He could pretend it never happened. It wasn’t as if it mattered, anyway, because Victor would never be interested; why would he be?

 

Victor could have whoever he wanted in the entire world. And sure, he’d wanted to  _ coach _ Yuuri, had come all this way, and that alone filled Yuuri with this quiet, glowing pride. And that should be  _ enough _ . It shouldn’t matter that Victor would never want more than that, no matter how Yuuri’s dick apparently now wanted to interpret Victor’s every word and action. Victor was kind of infamous for being a flirt, after all, so believing he meant anything by it was beyond ridiculous.

 

Yuuri just had to not react to it, not take it for real, and skate until he could forget. And besides, at the end of the season, Victor would go back to Russia, and Yuuri would have to figure out what to do with his life after retiring - help run  _ Yu~topia _ ? Find a company somewhere to hire him as an office drone? - and they would probably never meet again.

 

He couldn’t waste what little time he had left with Victor analyzing and agonizing over every word and touch, especially not if he wanted to  _ win _ .

 

A knock sounded at his door. “Yuuri?” Victor called, sounding worried. “Are you alright? You didn’t finish dinner.”

 

“I’m fine,” Yuuri called back, desperately looking for something to wipe his hand with, in case Victor decided personal space and privacy was for other people. “Sorry for making you worry.”

 

“Can I come in?” Victor asked, so gentle it made Yuuri’s heart ache. It sounded as if he  _ cared _ as more than just a coach for his student, and already he was testing Yuuri’s resolve.

 

It was startling to realize that he  _ wanted _ Victor to care. Beyond the carnal place his brain had gone, he apparently wanted  _ more _ . In the crude terms Yuuri had never really felt comfortable with, despite how casually everyone else seemed to throw them around, he didn’t just want to  _ fuck _ Victor - or want Victor to fuck him? Like with the eros performance, he didn’t think he had the confidence to be the, well, active pursuer, so that would probably be the end result, but putting it in such stark,  _ real _ terms was uncomfortable, and his mind shied from the thought - he wanted Victor to  _ want _ him, to want to stay with him, to…

 

Well, to love him.

 

He swallowed thickly as he got up from the bed. Damn it, he wasn’t supposed to  _ think _ about this, any of it, it would only end in pain.

 

“No, it’s okay,” Yuuri replied, grabbing a few tissues from the box on his desk, quickly cleaning himself up and throwing them away. “I’m fine, really, you can go back to drinking with Minako-sensei.”

 

“Yuuri, that’s not what I asked,” Victor said, and Yuuri could just imagine the stern look that always accompanied that tone of voice. “Will you please let me in, so I can see you?”

 

Yuuri’s chest felt too tight from that request, and he could feel his face heating up. But it wasn’t as if he had it in him to refuse that. As much as he could without a mirror, he gave himself a quick check to make sure it wasn’t immediately obvious what he’d just been doing, before hesitantly opening the door.

 

He felt unable to meet Victor’s eye, but didn’t quite know where else to look, either. The guest  _ jinbei _ showed off too much skin, and somehow seemed to drape more delicately on Victor than it did on anyone else. “Yes?”

 

Yuuri froze as Victor gently placed a hand on his forehead, and felt his heart thumping louder, so hard it echoed in his head.

 

“Well, it doesn’t seem like you have a fever.”

 

Which was probably a miracle, with how overheated Yuuri felt. He let out a sound he simply refused to call a squeak.

 

Victor removed his hand again, but not without letting it slide down along Yuuri’s cheek. “Are you sure you’re okay, Yuuri? It’s not like you to not finish your meal. I know I’ve got you on a pretty strict diet, and I’m working you hard, and the summer heat surely isn’t helping, but that’s all the more reason to make sure you’re getting a proper caloric intake. You’re not thinking skipping meals is going to help you, right? Or too exhausted to have an appetite? With your stamina, I didn’t think we’d have that issue, but…”

 

Yuuri couldn’t help but laugh softly at Victor’s worry, or rather, how giddily  _ happy _ said worry made him. Miserably guilty, yes, but yet so, so happy. “I’m really fine, Victor. I ate most of my dinner, I just couldn’t quite finish it tonight. But I’ll make sure not to make a habit of it, okay? Guess I’m a bit tired, so I think I’m gonna head to bed early today. Uh, good night?”

 

Yuuri managed to glance up, and found Victor smiling at him, so gently and warmly it hurt to look at. “That’s good, then. Do you wanna sleep together tonight?”

 

Yuuri’s face burst into flame - and just when he thought he was starting to get it under control, too - and he inwardly cursed Victor just a  _ little _ for always flustering him like this. “N-no,” he stammered.

 

“You don’t sound as sure as you usually do,” Victor teased, after a moment of stunned silence.

 

“Y-you should probably head back, anyway. Minako-sensei is waiting for you, right?” Yuuri said, desperately trying to stop  _ fidgeting _ , like a lovesick teenager. Five minutes after realizing he probably had feelings for his coach, and he was already acting like a complete idiot. This was the opposite of what he’d promised himself he’d do.

 

“Well, what if I’d rather spend my time with you?” Victor asked, taking Yuuri’s hand and raising it to his lips.

 

Yuuri swallowed around where his heart seemed to be hammering in his throat. He managed a weak chuckle, his best attempt at trying to laugh it off. “You should probably be careful with saying stuff like that. Someday, someone’s gonna take you seriously.”

 

“And what would it take for  _ you _ to take me seriously, Yuuri?” Victor said, voice smooth and sweet like honey, actually pressing a gentle peck to Yuuri’s knuckles.

 

“What?!” Yuuri squeaked, and yes, he’d admit that was what he did, this time. But he’d like to see anyone do better, when faced with-... with  _ this _ .

 

“I’m not sure how much clearer I can make myself. And I keep telling myself that the lack of a response shows your lack of interest, and I fully respect that,” Victor said, and Yuuri could feel his eyes grow wider and rounder, to the point a faint part of his brain was worried they were going to fall out. And then Victor slid his hand from Yuuri’s, trailed it so faintly up Yuuri’s arm it raised goosebumps, before he gently cupped Yuuri’s cheek. “But then you’ll look at me with those wide, dark eyes, blush so prettily, and say the sweetest things. And I can’t quite help but think that it might be possible to make you mine after all. So I think I’m just gonna try asking. Which is it?”

 

“I-... you-... You want  _ me _ ?” Yuuri managed to stutter out.

 

“Yes, very much,” Victor confirmed with a smile that looked like  _ sin _ . There was this…  _ hunger? _ in his eyes that Yuuri hadn’t seen from him before, hadn’t seen from  _ anyone _ before, certainly not aimed towards  _ him _ . “Is that so hard to believe?”

 

“Well,  _ yes _ ,” Yuuri’s mouth blurted without any input from his brain, and he inwardly cursed its uselessness.

 

“I suppose I was right, then, that not even you know how alluring you can be. I keep seeing glimpses of it here and there, especially when you’re skating, and it’s such a  _ tease _ , Yuuri. I feel like a starving man being given crumbs, and even if they’re the crumbs from the most decadent feast imaginable, it’s nowhere near enough. I’m not sure  _ anything _ would be enough, but at this point, I’m fairly certain I’d take any scrap you’d be willing to give.”

 

Yuuri couldn’t quite wrap his mind around what Victor was saying. It sounded almost like-... But then again-...

 

All he knew was that there was one thing he needed to ask: “And if you-... If I let you ‘eat’ me, what then? If you find whatever it is you’re looking for - or if you don’t, and decide you were wrong - and your curiosity is satisfied?”

 

Even if he hoped there would be  _ more _ , he wasn’t sure he could deny Victor either way. He didn’t even know his  _ own _ feelings yet, this was all too sudden, but he knew he wanted  _ something _ (everything), and this might be his only chance. But also because he wanted to give Victor whatever the man wanted, whatever was in his power to give.

 

Victor stepped closer, so close his leg slotted between Yuuri’s, and placed his free arm around Yuuri’s waist. The hand at Yuuri’s cheek slid through his hair to cup the back of his head, and Victor’s forehead thumped gently against his.

 

“My dear Yuuri, while I’ll admit a large part of why I came here was simple curiosity - because I didn’t know you then - my feelings have morphed and grown quite spectacularly since then, you know.”

 

Victor’s husky voice made heat pool low in Yuuri’s stomach again, much to his surprise. He’d always thought others had been grabbing or exaggerating when talking about sex and desire, but here he was, desperate to be touched again, just because Victor was so close, and telling him these things that simply  _ had _ to be too wonderful to be true. And yet, his heart - and apparently body - was entirely too ready to believe.

 

“I came here to be your coach, and maybe see if I could convince you to share yourself with me, just a taste. But now, I can’t help but want to stay. You bend so sweetly, so acceptingly, yet I know there’s steel in you, and I love uncovering it, piece by piece. I want to know more about you, know  _ everything _ , not just because you fascinate me, but because knowing I have enough of your trust to open up completely would be so humbling, and, well,  _ arousing _ . And I want to show you the same trust. Because you’re the first person in longer than I can remember who doesn’t want and expect Victor the skater, or Victor the playboy, or whatever role they’ve cast me as. Your wish if you won was just to spend time with me. You told me you just want me to be  _ me _ , whoever that is. I’m not sure I even know anymore, but I’d like to find out, with you.”

 

Yuuri could feel tears welling in his eyes, but he was feeling so overwhelmed he couldn’t even begin to pinpoint  _ why _ . The fact that Victor wanted him felt like wildfire in his bones,  but his heart  _ ached _ that Victor felt so lost, sounded so sad when it came to his own identity. It felt like all the dreams he hadn’t even known he had was coming true, but at the cost of Victor’s pain. Should he be thankful that no-one else had bothered to want more than Victor’s masks, so that Yuuri himself had become remarkable? But how could he be thankful for something that had obviously been so painful? And yet, how could he possibly have competed for Victor’s attention if that  _ hadn _ ’t been the case?

 

And what about Yuuri’s  _ own _ identity? Who was he now? His plan had been to just ignore it, but that was obviously right out the window, and he would have to actually  _ think _ about it -  _ all _ of it - and it was terrifying. But it wasn’t as if he could turn Victor down. Especially not now.

 

“I’d-... I’d like to find out with you, too,” he said in a shaky voice, before looking down. Because he didn’t think he could actually say this to Victor’s face. “And I’m… not good at opening up.I’m a mess, really, even more so in the inside, and I hate the same of people  _ knowing _ that, but I can… try? If you want? I-I mean, I’d  _ like _ to try. Because I’m so tired of being scared all the time, of everyone’s reactions, of their disappointment.”

 

Yuuri dared to look up again, and found Victor frowning. “You’re acting as if you have to be perfect. You know I’m not expecting that of you, right? And neither is anyone else.”

 

“No, I know, I’m like the furthest from perfect you could possibly get, but.. I guess that’s why I want to be  _ better _ . I don’t want to be worthless forever.”

 

“Yuuri,” Victor said, followed by a string of Russian. “Is that really how you see yourself? There is quite the gap between perfection and worthlessness, and while no-one’s expecting perfection, no-one’s seeing worthlessness, either. You could never be worthless, Yuuri. You are beautiful, so strong, and  _ alive _ . You are gentle, kind, and so expressive I could never get tired of watching you, on or off the ice. Any one of those things is more than enough to prove your worth, and you’re all that and more. I’m not here because I want to see you live up to some arbitrary, impossible standard you apparently have in your mind. I’m here because I want to see  _ you _ , all of you, just the way you are.”

 

Looking Victor in the eye became too much, so Yuuri leaned down and forward, pressing his face into Victor’s shoulder as he tried to choke down the sobs. He didn’t understand what Victor possibly saw in him, and he definitely didn’t deserve those kind words, but they were so good to hear, and yet, hearing them hurt  _ so much _ . Victor apparently took this as a sign to hold him closer, to hug him so hard it almost hurt.

 

“I’m fairly certain I have your answer, but I want to ask again, to be sure, because none of us are speaking our native language, and it’s so easy to misunderstand, so: Yuuri, would you do me the honour of becoming mine? And it truly would be an honour.”

 

Yuuri managed a wet chuckle, still trying not to cry. “I think I already am. I’m kind of confused, because I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone quite like this, so I might need some time, but will you be mine as well?”

 

“I’ve been yours for quite some time now. All you had to do was reach out and take me.”

 

Shyly, Yuuri reached up to put his arms around Victor’s neck and hug him close. “There.”

 

“All yours,” Victor confirmed, smile evident in his voice.

 

Yuuri smiled back, confused yet happy, and such a complete mess. But there was at least one thing he could say: “And all yours.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> "Fun" fact: coming up with all sorts of explanations and excuses for why you're not attracted to anyone is a real thing people who don't realize they're ace do. I should know, I did it for 10 years.
> 
> And it's my headcanon that Yuuri's "crush" on Yuuko was either a squish, or the result of heteronormativity/compulsory heterosexuality.
> 
> If you'd like to talk about the ace spectrum, depression, or anything else, really, you can find me over at [tumblr](http://spurisani.tumblr.com/), or just drop me a comment.


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